Could've Made, Could've Tried
by some blue december
Summary: It was supposed to be over for Two-Bit and Kathy months ago, but a clear end seems nowhere in sight. She can't seem to end it, and he just plain won't. In the end, he might not have a choice in what ends the attraction neither of them can deny.
1. Promises that ain't No Good

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Outsiders_ by S.E. Hinton, or "Being Your Woman" by Paris Wells.

As usual, this ties in to all my other fics. It takes place a little over a month after _Sway_ ended. Happy Good Fic Day!

**Warning:** This chapter has a very high T rating. Not worth an M, but perhaps worth a warning )

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><p><strong>CHAPTER ONE<br>****Saturday, July 29th****, 1967**

_And, babe, I couldn't take the way you're mixing love with medicine,  
>Couldn't fucking stand the way you left me.<em>

The car was idling, Kathy's hands cold around the steering wheel as she listened to Hank Williams blaring from inside Buck's. She knew this song by heart - had the beat and words memorised because she'd heard it so many times before. There wasn't a word she didn't know, or a bridge she couldn't sing, and despite herself, her fingers tapped in time to the music. She would never admit it to anybody, but she had never really minded the cowboy or his Lovesick Blues.

Biting her lip, she leaned forward in her seat as the door to the busy roadhouse opened, but quickly leaned back again, unsure if she wanted to be seen yet. She was going in - there was no doubt about that - but for now, until she managed to steel herself for what was going to happen, she wanted to stay out of sight. She wanted to stay unnoticed. Hell, she wanted to stay sane.

Because she knew - knew for dead certain - that the moment she stepped into the roadhouse she had spent more hours in than she could count, every bit of good sense she owned would leave her. It would get stuck in the doorway, trapped in the crowed, and stumped at the stairs, before finally catching up to her in a filthy bedroom, in the grimy bathroom, against a flimsy wall in a deserted hallway.

Funny how it always caught up with her at the worst of times, making her feel like Tulsa's biggest tramp.

With a purse of her glossed lips, she peeled her hands off the steering wheel. On nights like these, they seemed to have a mind of their own. A mind that could never be made up. Half the time her fingers were tingling - itching with the need to grab the door handle and pull. The rest of the time they were wrapped around the steering wheel - attached to it like it was a damn life preserver; let go, and she drowns.

It was times like that when her hands seemed more trustworthy than her own mind.

Going into that roadhouse, letting him into her bedroom, climbing out of her car and into the one next to hers … it was all killing her. Problem was, she didn't always mind so much.

Wiping her palms on her dress, she let out a puff of air and glanced at the passenger seat. It was still there, and she had to stop her hands from going against her head and picking it up. Of course it was still there; she had barely let it leave her sight in the months since she'd received it. However, she didn't need to read it again. She had read it more times than she could count. It had been unfolded and refolded so many times the creases were getting soft, the envelope beginning to tear.

She dragged her gaze away and glanced at her watch, squinting to make out the time in the minimal light coming from Buck's. 10:15pm. She had agreed to meet Two-Bit at ten, but didn't hurry to climb out of the car. There was a good chance he'd be too drunk to remember their plans anyway, and if he wasn't, he would be too eager for their plans to commence to be pissed at her.

It was times like those that she missed being with him, dating him, having him as her boyfriend. He hadn't been her boyfriend for a while now. Five months, in fact.

Well, five months, two week, and four days. Twenty-four weeks. One hundred and sixty-eight days.

Sometimes - when she was feeling good about things - that didn't sound like very long, but she'd always been good at math. Five months, two weeks, and four days quickly became almost six months. Less than two weeks from six months. Thirteen days away from six months.

Thirteen was supposed to be an unlucky number … luckily, she didn't believe in that kind of crap.

She believed in facts, data, evidence. All evidence pointed toward her and Two-Bit having been broken up for close to half a year. That amount of time sure did sound permanent.

Sitting on her tingling hands, she attempted to both warm them and ignore their need to reach for the door handle. She didn't need her trigger-happy fingers to make that decision for her, because there was no decision to be made. She was going inside, but she would go when she was good and ready, thank you very much.

And at that moment, she was far from ready. Her eyes had begun to water, and the last thing she needed was to ruin her make-up anymore than what the activities to come would do for her. Well, that was the second-to-last thing she needed. The very last thing she needed was to be crying over Two-Bit Mathews. Again.

She sighed as she reached up to adjust the rear vision mirror and dab at her eyes. Six months was a long time. The longest, in fact. Before February 11th, the longest time she and Two-Bit had spent apart was six weeks and it had been a damn hard six weeks. The hardest six weeks of her life up until eighteen weeks ago, when she realised that getting past the six week mark she had been at before _wouldn't_ make things any easier.

And she had really thought it would. If she could just get past the amount of time they had been apart before then she could get through anything. She had made it through, but it hadn't gotten any easier.

It wasn't that she regretted breaking up with Two-Bit … or maybe she did. Maybe she missed him. Maybe she wished she could just hint at the idea of getting back together and have him ask her out. Maybe she was just an idiot. Half the time she really didn't know. The other half, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Deciding that almost causing her eye make-up to run was reason enough to quit sitting around letting herself get depressed, she fluffed her hair, re-dabbed her eyes, and scratched the itch in her fingers.

The air was cooler than it should have been for a summers night, but she didn't stop to think about it. Ignoring the people milling about the parking lot, she climbed the steps, took a deep breath, and said a quick 'see ya later' to her common sense. Then she pushed the heavy door open.

Heat, smoke, and the stench of spilt beer enveloped her right away. Making her way toward the bar, she threw a frown at the floor, her boots sticking to whatever mess she was walking through. It was the one thing she hated about Buck's. She could deal with the smoke, the music, and even the drunken idiots, but she hated the sticky mess that could be found everywhere.

She sighed; speaking of messy, strong hands slid onto her hips from behind and the familiar scent of Two-Bit assaulted her senses. Her eyes closed of their own accord, and she leaned back, into his touch.

"Hey, beautiful."

She said nothing, but entwined her fingers with his when they skimmed over her abdomen. He chuckled, and she almost melted into a sticky puddle of her own.

"Wanna come upstairs?" he asked, thumbs stroking her through the material of her dress.

She shivered, ready, eager, desperate to nod in agreement, when some of her common sense caught up with her. Pulling away, she turned to look at him.

"I could use a drink first." She ignored how completely senseless drinking would be.

Two-Bit grinned. "Of course," he said, signalling to Buck. "Where _are_ my manners?"

Kathy didn't respond, but happily downed the shot Two-Bit handed her. It burned, just like always.

Two-Bit didn't give her a chance to ask for another. He took the glass, and slammed it on the bar, before grabbing her hand to lead her up the stairs. She went willingly, just like always.

They were a mess, but then, they kind of always had been. They had been on and off during the entire eighteen months they'd been together. That was until five months, two weeks and four days ago when they had become _off_ for good. Sometimes she wished she wasn't so good with numbers.

"C'mon," Two-Bit muttered, dragging her down the hall.

They were in a bedroom before she could consider saying no. Not that she would. Occasionally she could get her mind right and her body cooperating, but it didn't happen often. Definitely not as often as it should. Although, probably far too often for Two-Bit's liking.

Looking around the room, she sighed. It was a simple bedroom, but a bedroom nonetheless. As far as she was concerned, anything was better than the disgusting area Buck liked to call a bathroom. That place was nauseating and she felt dirty just thinking about all the people who used it for more than it was meant to be used for. Then she remembered a particular double date where she and Two-Bit had deserted Steve and Evie, and felt a small fondness for the bathroom.

She heard the bedroom door close and turned to look at Two-Bit. He was sliding the key into his pocket, an intense look on his face, and it made her miss the other side of him all over again. She never got to be with fun-loving Two-Bit anymore. She didn't get to be with carefree Two-Bit, relaxed Two-Bit, or easy-going Two-Bit. Now days she only got the Two-Bit who was trying to get her into bed … or already had her in bed.

Flirtatious Two-Bit, who winked at her across the room and stood behind her minutes later, whispering wonderfully filthy things in her ear. Seductive Two-Bit, who traced her jaw with one finger, knowing it was enough to get what he wanted, but always letting his finger slip down past her collarbone anyway. Teasing Two-Bit, who held her wrists above her head, forcing her to look at him as he moved excruciatingly slowly inside of her.

He advanced on her; slow, lazy steps matching the leisurely rake of his gaze over her body. She backed up until she was pressed against the dresser, hands resting on its dusty surface. No words were spoken, but that wasn't unusual. A small shudder ran through her as he leaned over her, hands resting on either side of her own, his body a fraction away from touching her. A small smirk played at his lips and she raised a cocky eyebrow in response.

She might have been a living, breathing doormat when it came to Two-Bit Mathews, but she could hold her own.

"You were late," he said, lips barely moving.

She gave a careless shrug. She had, in fact, been early, but he didn't need to know that. Though she couldn't help but be surprised that he had even noticed. It wasn't that he was unobservant - she just didn't think he cared enough to notice something so insignificant.

One of his fingers brushed over her knuckles, as soft as his breath on her face. She swallowed heavily, and his eyes darkened. Closing the small distance between them, his tongue traced a path along her jaw and her eyes fluttered shut.

She wanted him. God help her, she would always want him.

All coherent thought left her the moment his tongue touched her skin. Her common sense was gone and her mind wasn't working - making decisions for her was her heart and the strong burning in the pit of her stomach. Lust.

Her hands were at the hem of his shirt, tugging and pulling, frantic and desperate to touch the skin beneath. He let out another chuckle and pushed his hips against her own, ending her attempts with the quick movement. She rested her weight against the dresser and let out a huff.

"What's wrong, beautiful?"

She closed her eyes. Willed herself to hate him. Push him away. Leave the damn bedroom. _Just_ _hate_ _him_. Her hands were still clutching his shirt, wringing it between her fingers, and she had the urge the rip it to shreds, just out of spite.

His teeth nipped at her earlobe before he continued. "Kathy, baby …" He dragged his lips back across her jaw, stopping in front of her mouth.

Through barely opened eyes, she watched as he sunk his teeth into his lower lip while staring intently at her mouth. He let it go slowly, and she found herself in awe at the pinkness of it, at the way it glistened in the light from the window, wanting nothing more than to reach up and -

"Fuck I miss kissing you," he said, in what almost sounded like pain.

Her eyes widened, mouth opening to say something - anything - but he caught her lips with his own, kissing her deeply as his hands finally moved from the dresser to her hips, tugging at the material of her dress to pull her roughly against himself. She moaned at every bit of contact; his tongue plunging into her mouth, his hips pressing against her own, his smooth skin beneath her fingers that were tingling again.

Despite the teasing way he had treated her when they'd first entered the room, Two-Bit became urgent and needy the moment he kissed her. Lifting her onto the dresser and shoving her dress somewhere up around her waist, his lips and teeth attacked the exposed flesh of her throat, making sure to leave a mark that he knew she hated.

Her body arched into him, all the while her mind silently cursed him. She had never been a fan of hickeys, but since their break-up he'd taken to giving her one every time they were together. Almost as if marking her as his when - as far as he and everyone else were concerned - she was anything but.

All complaints flew out the window when his hands left her hips to knead her thighs, and minutes later, he was sliding her underwear down her legs, throwing it onto the bed. Realising he was still entirely dressed, and doing her best to not throw herself at him anymore than she already had, she went for the button and zipper of his jeans, licking her lips as he stripped himself of his black tee.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, nails digging into the dresser, using it and his body to keep herself upright as he yanked the straps of her dress and bra down her arm, sending hot kisses over her shoulder and collarbone.

She could tell anyone who asked a million and one terrible things about Two-Bit Mathews, but she could never say he was selfish when it came to sex.

Of course, once the sex was over, everything changed. Her chest tightened. A lump formed in her throat. Her lip trembled.

Her good sense caught up.

Disentangling herself from her sweaty ex-boyfriend, she slid off the dresser, adjusted her clothes, and - while Two-bit was busy doing up his pants - subtly slipped her underwear back on. The silence between them was heavy, and she quietly wondered if this was it. If this would ever happen again, or if this had been the last time. Not the last time she always promised herself, but the honest-to-God last time.

It could be, and she didn't know whether she was happy or broken-hearted about that.

"You need a ride home?"

She turned to look at him and shook her head. "I got my car."

He grinned that peaceful grin he always had after sex, and slipped his t-shirt over his head. "At least let me walk ya to your car."

She shook her head again, needing to be as far away from him as possible. "It's fine."

Looking into his eyes for a moment, she wondered if she could tell him that it wasn't enough. The sex, the flirting banter, the want, the need, the desire - none of it was enough. She needed more from him. She wanted him to love her, to care for her, to treat her the way she wanted, needed, _desired_ to be treated.

Late night rendezvous, leaving right away or sneaking away in the morning, being used for sex … it wasn't what she wanted. It wasn't right.

It wasn't enough, and Two-Bit would never get that.

Not bothering with a goodbye, she left the room and hurried down the steps and out of the roadhouse.

A casual relationship with Two-Bit that involved nothing but sex wasn't something she should be doing. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out. In fact, it was the very last thing she should doing considering the events that had lead up to the two of them breaking up. If anything, a pregnancy scare should have put her off sex at least until her wedding night.

And if that hadn't done it, Two-Bit's reaction surely should have.

He hadn't turned into an unstable drunk after Dallas and Johnny had died, like she had thought he might. Instead, he'd turned into a mean drunk; cussing out people he knew could kick his ass, making nasty remarks to people who were trying to help him, accusing his girlfriend of sleeping around when she'd told him her period was late.

Hell, he hadn't just turned into a mean drunk, he'd become an outright mean person. He hadn't needed the alcohol to make him cruel.

The way he had treated her five months ago had been enough for her to wake up to the chaos she liked to call their relationship, and realise that she deserved better - that it was time to finally let her relationship with him go. Unfortunately for her, it hadn't been enough to change her feelings for him. She had taken a stand, so to speak, and at long last given up on Two-Bit.

Emotionally, anyway.

Her guard was still up, she had adopted the attitude of 'just having a good time', and was determined to keep her emotions out of it. But she still loved him and wasn't ready to let him go completely. Sleeping with him was the only way she could let herself be with him, without really being with him.

Ignoring the looks of people she was sure knew exactly what she had been doing inside Buck's, she climbed into her car, freely letting her eyes land on the envelope in the passenger seat. Gingerly, she picked it up, taking the letter out and rereading it.

None of it mattered anymore; not their break-up, not the mess they were in now, not anything from their past. They were done - the letter said so itself.

There were a few things in life she had given up for Two-Bit Mathews - a chance at a loving relationship, nights with her best friend, and more money than a girl of her social standing had - but a full academic scholarship wasn't going to be one of them.

_And I would've stayed by your side,  
>And we could've made, could've tried.<em>

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><p><strong>AN:** Thanks to Sam for beta-reading. This little story only has four chapters, and I hope you guys enjoy it :)


	2. It's Funny how the Night Moves

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Outsiders_ by S.E. Hinton, or "Great Expectations" by The Gaslight Anthem.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWO<br>****Saturday, August 5th****, 1967**

_We were always waiting for something to happen_

Two-Bit had never really had a best friend. He'd never had what Soda and Steve had, or even what Pony and Johnny'd had. He'd never had that one person he'd grown up with, spent all his time with, told all his secrets to. He'd never had had a best friend and that had always been okay.

He'd spent a lot of time with Dallas over the years - drinking, fighting, picking up girls - but he doubted he could've called Dally his best buddy. His good buddy, for sure, but not his best.

He'd always had a soft spot for the kid - amazed by the way Pony could sit for hours and read or draw or think. Two-Bit wasn't stupid, but he sure didn't have the smarts Ponyboy did. The kid baffled him with some of the things he came out with, and as much as Two-Bit would tease him about it, he was always silently impressed. That didn't make him his best friend, though.

If he had to name someone who would be his best friend - and it wasn't as hard as he liked to pretend it was - it would be Steve. They didn't have a whole lot in common - Steve's moody nature clashed with Two-Bit's cheerful one on a daily basis - and, anyway, everyone knew that Steve's best buddy was Sodapop.

But Two-Bit had spent more time with Steve than he had with any of the guys; they went to school together, shared and skipped some of the same classes, always met up for lunch. They hung out on nights Soda couldn't go out because of work the next morning, they caused trouble together, and - at one time - they had dated best friends which had resulted in a lot of fun double dates.

If Two-Bit needed to let off steam, get drunk, or even get laid, he'd hung out with Dallas and one, if not all three, of those would happen. But when something was really wrong - when something made its way past Two-Bit's good humour and managed to upset him - it was Steve he would talk to.

That's why when Steve had received his draft letter, Two-Bit felt like he was losing his best friend. Maybe Soda took it harder, he didn't know, but he did know that, for a few minutes that day, breathing had become really fucking difficult. Johnny and Dallas were already dead, and that had messed him up more than he liked to admit; he couldn't stand it if Steve died.

Sitting his feet on the chair next to him, Two-Bit threw down his cards. "I'm out. I got nothin'."

The poker game was down to Darry and Pony, who were sitting at the other end of the table. Soda sat on Two-Bit's other side, staring at nothing on the wall opposite, and Two-Bit flicked his gaze between both the game and Soda without paying much attention to either … and that was it. Darry, Pony, Soda, and Two-Bit. What was left of the gang all in one place, but the whole damn house felt empty and depressing and just fucking miserable.

In truth, he had felt pretty miserable about most things since Steve left. But other than his usual jokes to lighten the mood, he hadn't said anything to anyone except Kathy. It wasn't his place. His place was to keep things simple and carefree. If _he_ couldn't show a bit of humour about the serious things, then what was everyone else going to do? Everyone had their position in the gang, and his was to keep up the good mood.

Sometimes it just wasn't that easy.

He stood. "I think I'm gonna head home."

"You ain't goin' to Buck's?" Soda asked, focusing on him instead of the wall.

Two-Bit shook his head, remembering the last time he'd been at Buck's. "Na. I'll see y'all tomorrow."

Throwing a wave at the chorus of goodbyes, he left the house and started down the street. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, his fingers itched for a smoke he didn't have.

He hadn't been sure what would happen once Steve left. Losing Dal and Johnny had been tough enough on all of them. Steve wasn't dead, but as far as Two-Bit was concerned, leaving for Vietnam was as good as. No one would know if Steve was okay, hurt, or worse. Letters from him would take weeks to get back to Tulsa and anything could happen in that time between.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he pushed that out of his mind and concentrated on something only slightly less depressing: Kathy.

He hadn't seen her in a week. He supposed this was hardly unusual for exes, but he and Kathy weren't typical exes. Most weeks he didn't go four days without seeing her, and that in itself was a stretch. Whether she unexpectedly turned up at his house, if he made plans to meet her somewhere, or they unintentionally bumped into each other along the Ribbon, he always saw her. At least two or three times a week.

But he hadn't seen her since the night she last met him at Buck's.

Not for the first time, he silently cursed himself for asking her to meet him there again. As amazing as being with her had been - always fucking was - a small part of him had hated every moment of it. That small part had been screaming at him to stop, give her a true smile, maybe nibble on her lower lip a little before convincing her to go back to his place with him.

But he hadn't. He never did.

Because his desire to be inside of her outweighed everything else. Even the tiny possibility of waking up next to her the following morning.

That was one of the worst things about a sex-only relationship with her. She would either leave Buck's as soon as they were done, ask him to take her back to her car if they had driven somewhere, or sneak out of his bedroom in the middle of the night while he was sleeping. But at least if he took her home and she snuck out, he'd have more than an hour at most with her.

And deep, deep down, in the little part of him that only Kathy had ever been witness to, that was what he truly wanted. He wanted more time with her, he wanted whole nights with her, he wanted _all the time _with her.

He just wanted her.

Last week at Buck's had probably been one of the worst nights between them. Not the sex, of course - the sex was always fucking great - but the air between them had been … painful, at best. There were plenty of times worse than last week; times where they would end up screaming at each other as Kathy was on her way out the door, times where Kathy would barely look at him, and times when Kathy would leave in tears.

Sometimes he wondered why she bothered coming back for more.

None of those happened last week, but something about it made it especially bad for him to remember. He was pretty sure it was because he hadn't seen her since.

Of course, they'd had some pretty fucking great times, too. A smirk flittered across his face; the first time since their break up was still the best as far as he was concerned.

It had been a little over two months since their fight outside Steve's place. Two months of pure hell for Two-Bit, who had come to realise what a complete asshole he'd turned into. Upon that realisation, he quickly began to understand that, no matter what lingering feelings he held for Kathy, he was just no good for her.

Then she turned up at his house in her sexiest little dress, right after her first date since their break up, and he didn't have the strength to say no.

His stomach tightened at the memory, and he considered changing paths and heading to her house. She wouldn't want to see him, but he didn't really care at the moment. He just needed to let off some steam because, other than the idea of fucking her until she couldn't walk, there weren't a whole lot thoughts about her that were less depressing than ones about Steve.

Including the fact that he hadn't seen or heard from her in a week.

He continued toward his own place. Last thing he wanted was to put himself in even more shit with her by turning up when he knew she hated him doing so. He didn't know why she seemed to be avoiding him, but he wished she'd stop. Not just so he could get laid, but because he wanted to see her.

And there she was.

He stopped short on the long grass in front of his house, and raised an eyebrow at the girl sitting on his front porch. He didn't care how sappy it sounded; she looked beautiful with her hair partly clipped back, full lower lip caught between her teeth, and those strappy shoes he'd heard her call wedges. Looking at her legs, barely covered by short shorts and the straps of her shoes, he swallowed back the urge to run his tongue up her calf.

She stood to meet him, reminding him to walk again.

"How's it goin'?" he asked casually.

"S'all right."

He didn't like the way she was avoiding his gaze, and he stepped closer, towering over her despite the height of her shoes.

"Wanna come inside?" he asked.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you."

His heart sank. Every now and then she'd do this. Come to him, all serious and sad, and claim they needed to talk when, really, she was the only one who said anything and it was only ever a pitiful go at ending things between them. He only ever gave half a fight, knowing that it was probably for the best if things were over and done with for good - for her, anyway - but it always seemed to be enough to change her mind.

And he was always left wondering why her attempts to end things now - now that they weren't even together - were so much weaker than they had been while they were dating. He also found it interesting that his just-as-weak attempts at changing her mind now worked better than his earnest attempts while they'd been dating.

He tried not to think about it too much, though; it always confused him.

However, just because he always managed to change her mind, didn't change the fact that it didn't feel too shit-hot when it happened. He clenched his fists, still deep in his jeans pockets.

"We can talk inside," he said, voice low and eyes on her legs.

She took a step back. "I dunno."

Dragging his eyes away from her legs, he gave her a lazy smirk. He knew how this was going to go; she'd say they needed to stop, he'd give a few 'you really wanna end things for good's. A small argument and a million sighs later, Kathy would leave, promising to come back the following night. Only problem with that was Two-Bit needed her that night, not tomorrow.

"How's Soda doin'?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Not great. How's Anna doin'?"

"Not great." Kathy negated the step back she had taken, and Two-Bit reminded himself he really ought to go see Anna. "How're you doin'?"

He gave her a careful look, truly wondering if she even cared. After every time they had sex, he could see some of the love she used to feel for him, but he didn't know if that was just from being with him, or because it was really there. One look into her eyes at that moment told him he was being an idiot. She might not love him the way she used to, but she cared.

"Come inside," he said, hating the begging quality to his voice.

"To talk?"

"To talk."

Talking was the last thing on his mind as he followed her inside the dark house. He had been ready for her even before seeing she was at his house. He wasn't about to sit around and wait while she went on one of her we-need-to-end-things tirades.

Kicking the door closed behind him, he grabbed her before she could turn to face him. His large hands covered her hips and pulled her against his, her smaller body flush against his larger one. She opened her mouth to protest, but he grabbed her chin and caught her in a kiss before she could.

He loved kissing Kathy. It was, without a doubt, one of his favourite pastimes. Other than missing having her as his girl, kissing her was what he missed most about her. The way she tasted, the pleasing noises she made in the back of her throat, her sweet little tongue. She was one hell of a kisser.

A groan fell from his lips as she pulled away from him.

"I said I wanted to talk," she snapped.

"Yeah? Well I wanna fuck."

"Of course you do. That's all you ever want from me, isn't it?"

He didn't bother answering that one. Telling the truth would get him in a whole world of trouble; lying would get him a slap to the face.

"You're so fucking infuriating, Two-Bit. I don't know why I even bothered comin' here tonight."

It wasn't often Kathy swore to that extent, but when she did, it was always because of him. It fucking killed him to know he made her that upset. But at the same time, he couldn't just let it be; he had to fight back. It had never been that way when they'd been dating. They'd argued, but it was always over in minutes. Nowadays - since that fight at Steve's - they could yell and scream at each other for hours.

"Why did'ja then?" he asked.

She looked surprised by his question, and when she replied, her voice was low. "I needed to tell you something."

He had a flash of the last time she said that to him; the way he reacted, the things he said. He wasn't sure he'd ever hurt Kathy more than in that moment. Except perhaps a week later when they fought outside Steve's.

What would he do if she told him the same thing this time? Would he take the second chance someone out there was foolishly willing to give him? Probably not. He was an idiot, after all. But shit, the chance that she thought she was pregnant again, and was stupid enough to tell him again … well, it was pretty damn slim.

"What is it?" he finally asked.

She bit her lip, taking her sweet time in answering him, fidgeting from strappy shoe to strappy shoe. He fought the urge to yell some more.

"I'm leaving," she finally said.

"C'mon, Kathy. Don't back out of tellin' me whatever it is and leave. Just fucking tell me."

"No, I mean I'm going away. Leaving Tulsa."

Leaving Tulsa?

Two-Bit took a moment to wrap his mind around those words and what they meant. It wasn't easy; there was a shit load it meant.

It meant she wouldn't live in the house he knew as well as his own. It meant Anna would lose her best friend. It meant he wouldn't have to work so damn hard to get laid anymore, because if there was one thing he hadn't done since he and Kathy started this thing, it was sleep with anyone else.

It meant …

She was leaving Tulsa. It meant he would never see her again, never talk to her again, never have the chance to make up for all the bullshit he'd caused her over the years. He'd never be with her again. And maybe, just maybe, a part of him had really believed that this sex-only situation would eventually become more. He knew she deserved more - _better_ - but maybe, all this time, he had thought they would end up together again.

His heart pounded, a different person flashing in his head with each beat - his old man, Johnny, Dally, Steve … and now Kathy. All leaving him. He swallowed back his hurt and bitterness and that ache in his chest he always associated with Kathy.

"You're leavin'?" he asked, sounding as casual as he could.

She nodded, biting her lip again.

"Well, where ya goin'?"

"College. In Oklahoma City. Mr. Munroe convinced me to apply for the full academic scholarship a few months ago. And, I mean, I never thought I'd get it, but …"

But, she did. And he was supposed to reply … how, exactly?

He was happy for her. Glory, if anyone deserved it, Kathy did. She was amazing and smart without shoving it down anyone's throat. She studied hard, did all her homework, and hardly ever skipped class. She deserved it. She was going to go far, and he … he wasn't going to hold her back.

"That's really great," he said honestly.

"Yeah?"

"Definitely."

"I wasn't sure if, I dunno, if you even wanted to know. Or - or if you even cared that I was leaving."

Hands shoved in his pockets, he clenched his fists. "'Course I wanted to know,' he said. "But ya didn't have to come all this way to tell me."

A look of hurt came over her features, but it was gone in a flash. "I didn't?"

"It ain't a big deal. I mean, it is for you, but … it's not like we're together anymore. It won't be the same without you around here, but it ain't like we're in love and your leavin' me broken hearted or anything."

He resisted the urge to look down and see if his pants had shot up in flames. He was lying his ass off.

"You're right," she said, not meeting his gaze. "We haven't been together for a long time now."

_Almost six of the longest months of my life_. He swallowed again, feeling really fucking sick.

Squaring her shoulders, she looked him in the eye and gave a quick grin. "Well, I should get goin' then. I leave in two weeks and have a lot to do."

He nodded and stepped aside. "Sure."

He kept his eyes firmly away from her legs, ass, or beautiful face as she walked past him. Watching her leave could very well ruin his resolve and cause him to confess his undying love for her. His fists clenched again, and he wished he was exaggerating when he thought of his feelings for Kathy.

She opened the door and stopped. He could feel her gaze on him but refused to turn.

"Bye, Two-Bit," she said softly.

He knew then, that even if he had no pride and was happy to hold her back, it wouldn't have mattered. Her mind about going had been made up long before she'd ever decided to tell him. But her voice alone broke his resolve and he turned, knowing it would be the last time he saw her. There was no way he was going to call her before she left, and he knew she wouldn't come to him.

"See ya, beautiful," he said, voice low as his eyes sought her out.

She was already gone.

_Everybody leaves so why, why wouldn't you?_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Beta'd by Sam. And, though it's been beta'd, it's been a few days since I've really looked at this chapter. Feel free to point out anything that looks weird.


	3. So Many Ways to Lose Your Attention

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _The Outsiders_ by S.E. Hinton, or "Little Dreams" by Ellie Goulding.

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER THREE<br>****Saturday, August 12****th**

_Turn the glass into stars,  
><em>_And your face is the moon,  
><em>_And the night turns into you,  
><em>'_Cause my mind is on you._

The tapping had quickly become a welcome distraction. Usually the tapping frustrated her, annoyed her, made her a little crazy, but right then, it was almost comforting. There wasn't any tune to it - there never was - but it was a constant, and that was exactly what Kathy needed. A constant. Something that wasn't changing. Something she was so used to, and so familiar with, that it was now something she needed to keep her mind from wandering.

Because her mind wanted to wander. It wanted to wander to about a million different places and she wasn't willing to let it. It wanted to go to Oklahoma State, but the mere idea of that gave her butterflies. It wanted to go to her family that she was leaving behind, but she knew it was just stupid because no matter how bad she felt about leaving them, they were happy for her.

Mostly, it wanted to go to Two-Bit.

But, when she thought about it, she wondered if perhaps it wasn't her mind that wanted to wander to Two-Bit, but her heart. Because if there was one place Two-Bit had never left, it was her heart. Perhaps it was her mind keeping her thoughts from going there.

Or maybe it was the tapping.

That was unlikely, but when the tapping stopped, she looked up anyway.

Anna stared out the window with blank eyes, and Kathy wondered if she should say something. Probably not; there wasn't a damn thing she could say that would make Anna feel any better about anything.

Looking away, she glanced back at the magazine she was pretending to read. The advertisement told her that using Lustre Crème shampoo would make her curls luxurious and beautiful. She doubted it. There wasn't a whole lot that could cut through her mess she liked to claim were curls. But she feigned interest anyway, pursing her lips at the woman in the picture and turning the page.

It didn't matter. None of it mattered.

She could sit back and stop pretending to read, and it wouldn't matter. She could get up and leave, and it wouldn't matter. Hell, she could jump onto the table and do her own little dance, and it still wouldn't matter. Not to either of them.

Anna was a mess. Had been for weeks, and instead of doing the right thing, instead of being there for her best friend like Anna had always been there for her, Kathy had avoided her far more than she should have. Telling Anna that she was leaving when Anna was spending her last few days with Steve wasn't something she had been able to do - and she'd already been putting it off for weeks before that. So she'd waited. And now - now that both Anna and Two-Bit knew - she had moped and sulked and not given two shits about anyone else's problems.

Because, as far as she had been concerned, Two-Bit's attitude when she had told him was the worst thing to have happened in a while.

She didn't know where the weeks of selfishness came from. It wasn't like her. She wasn't a selfish person. At least, she hadn't been up until very recently. And was Two-Bit to blame? Perhaps. Or perhaps there was no one to blame but herself.

That idea seemed more likely.

Chewing on her lower lip, she continued aimlessly flipping through the magazine. The six month mark had come and gone. Just yesterday, in fact. She didn't know how to feel about it. A part of her had truly thought that once the sixth months was over, things would begin to get easier, but just like the six week mark, nothing had changed.

Anna stood, and Kathy looked up at her.

"You want a drink?"

Kathy nodded. She might have been so selfish that she'd hardly paid any attention to Anna and what she was going through, but she wasn't so selfish that she hadn't known about it. She wasn't so selfish that she didn't feel for her best friend.

Anna came back and handed her a Coke, before flopping into her seat.

"Thanks."

Anna nodded. Kathy waited for her to say something, knowing it was pointless. Silence came, and minutes later, tapping followed.

Steve was gone. Kathy didn't know how his friends were taking it, but had a fair idea if how Anna was coping was anything to go by. They might have broken up for a while last year, but that wasn't the point. The point was that, when Steve left, they were still completely in love. They were in love, and he was gone. Off to fight some war he wanted no part of.

Life really wasn't fair to some people.

"You never did tell me how Two-Bit took your news," Anna said.

"Yeah. It hardly seemed important," she lied.

It actually seemed pretty damn important to her, but it wasn't the most important thing in anyone else's lives. The fact that it was the most important thing in her life gave her the urge to get some very interesting hobbies. Or, at the very least, try and figure out where her once caring heart had gone. She and Anna had been growing apart for a while, but that didn't excuse anything.

Two-Bit's reaction to her news had been … surprising? Hurtful? Exactly what she had expected? She really didn't know. Her mind had gone over a million different scenarios as to how Two-Bit would take the fact that she was leaving, but not one of them had struck her as possible.

She thought about him getting angry, saying nasty words, and throwing things in anger. She thought about him going quiet, like he had when Steve had received his letter - not saying anything, not doing anything; just sitting, processing, and not acting at all like himself. She even entertained the idea of him grabbing her, telling her he wasn't going to let her go and, when she tried to fight him off, having him ask her - _plead_ with her - not to go.

It was when that idea ran through her head that she began to question her sanity. Two-Bit Mathews might not have wanted her to go, but he would never plead with her to stay.

But she never imagined he would tell her he was happy for her and that she needn't have gone to all the trouble of telling him in person because, really, they weren't even together anymore.

And it was a really shitty thing to hear. It hurt so much more than it should have. She had spent months trying to put her feeling for Two-Bit aside, trying to emotionally detach herself from him … and it had all been pointless because, once again, he had hurt her. Without even knowing it.

"Of course it's important," Anna said. "And I should've asked sooner."

Despite the newly found selfishness she had been feeling, Kathy couldn't find it in herself to be mad at Anna for having not asked. The same thought kept running through her head, making anything Anna did seem not so bad: Anna's boyfriend was in Vietnam.

"I don't really know how he took it," Kathy said honestly.

She felt only a little bad for talking about Two-Bit when Anna was the one who needed to be talking about things. That wasn't likely to happen, though; Anna wasn't a talker.

"But it wasn't good?"

"It wasn't … it wasn't anything. He seemed genuinely happy for me, which was nice, but he also seemed, I dunno, as if he didn't even care that I was leaving."

"I'm sure he does care," Anna said, not sounding at all reassuring.

"Right."

Anna shifted in her seat, looking more alive than Kathy had seen her in a while. "I mean it," she said. "He might not have shown anything when he found out, but I'm sure he cares."

"How can you be so sure, though?"

"Because." Anna left it at that for a moment, before continuing. "I dunno," she said, "maybe I'm wrong, maybe he doesn't care … or maybe you're not the only person he cares about to leave him and it's too much. Maybe the idea of you leaving him, as well as Steve, cut a little too deep and he didn't know how to respond."

Kathy looked at Anna, the very small amount of guilt she had been feeling growing into an intense feeling of absolute shame. However, as terrible as she was feeling, her selfishness rose also and she snapped at Anna.

"Of course. Because Steve leaving is all anyone can think about these days, right?" She stood from her seat and flipped her magazine closed. "You know, I get that he's gone to war and that it's awful and all, but what do you even care? He broke your heart."

For a moment, Anna looked like she might cry. But she took a breath and looked at Kathy.

"You know, I don't know what your problem is, but I don't think I've ever seen you be as selfish as you have been lately," she said. "And I'm not talking about right now, with what a bitch you're being to me; I'm talking about the way you're treating Two-Bit."

"What about the way I'm treating Two-Bit?"

Anna stood. "It's not even a year ago that Dally and Johnny died, and now Steve's gone, and all you're worried about is how Two-Bit feels about _you_ leaving." She moved away from the table and went to leave the kitchen, pausing in the doorway. "And he's not even your boyfriend."

Kathy was left standing in Anna's kitchen with Anna completely pissed off at her, and fighting the tears that had been threatening for a while now. Swallowing back her hurt and shame, she left the kitchen and walked out of the house.

Everything seemed pretty bleak and grey as she walked outside and headed home. Of course, the light rain could have had something to do with that, but the full moon made the night sky seem dreary and depressing - making everything still and quiet, like something out of a movie. The only noise that came was from her shoes and the sniffling of her suddenly dripping nose.

She pushed her hair away from her face, and sighed, thinking that the grey simply didn't cut it. At that moment, at every moment for the last few weeks, everything had been black and white. And perhaps that was the problem. She wasn't seeing things for how they could be - _should_ be - she was seeing things one way or another. Black or White. No room for negotiation. Her way or the highway.

And it probably wasn't right, but she hated the grey. It seemed far too symbolic for her mood of late.

Anna was right, though; Kathy had never been so selfish. She remembered the cruel words she had spat at Anna. They had been so nasty, and nasty just wasn't a word anyone had ever used to describe Kathy. Kind, feisty, calm - they had all been used, but not nasty. Never nasty.

Her face flushed in humiliation, and if the glow of pink didn't make her so happy, she probably would have turned on her heel and gone back to apologise to Anna. Instead, she continued home, sulking in the rain and thinking things over.

Anna's words - her own agreement with Anna's words - should have had her thinking over her own actions. They should have had her going over every selfish, arrogant, and _nasty_ thing she had said or done in the last few weeks.

But she didn't. Instead, she thought back to when her change of attitude had begun and realised that, just like everything else over the last few years, it began with Two-Bit.

It was always Two-Bit.

It could have been just last week, when she had been waiting on his porch steps and he'd arrived home from wherever he had been. It killed her that the most emotion he had shown during her entire visit was when she'd told him there was something she needed to tell him. Of course, his anger had been more than apparent when she had stopped him from kissing her, but the only true emotion that had washed over him was when she'd said those fateful words.

And because of that, she realised that the last time she said those words was when the selfish and nasty Kathy had begun to appear. When she had begun avoiding her obviously in love best friend.

The roles had been almost completely reversed. She had walked up Two-Bit's front path, seeing him sitting on his porch steps, bottle of beer in hand and wicked smirk on his face. She knew what he was hoping for, but there was no chance of him getting it.

"I need to tell you something," she said, sitting next to him, and fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.

He looked at her expectantly and she told him everything; how her period was late, how she had never been more than two days late in her life, how she had been feeling sick but was hoping it was just in her head because she was paranoid.

Silence followed for a few minutes.

"So, you might be pregnant?" he finally asked her, staring moodily at his front lawn.

"Yeah."

Then he turned to look at her, and for the first time in her life, she was damn near terrified of him. His eyes were dull, emotionless. There was no life left in them, no love for her, and none of the spark she had originally fallen for.

He shrugged sluggishly. "What're ya tellin' me for? It's probably Harris' anyway."

Danny Harris, the one boy Kathy had slept with other than Two-Bit. She suspected some time ago that Two-Bit wasn't the one for her. Hearing him throw her one night with Danny back in her face like that confirmed it.

Having to seek him out at Steve's a week later, to tell him the pregnancy scare was a false alarm, forced her to accept it.

She hadn't seen him once in that week between. He hadn't called, hadn't visited, hadn't been to school. He'd done everything in his power to avoid her and any responsibility he might have to take had it turned out she was pregnant.

And she was done.

He had let her down, preferring to stoop as low as to accuse her of cheating than take any responsibility. She decided then and there, standing in front of Steve Randle's house, that she was through.

Two-Bit smirked when she'd told him she wasn't pregnant. "Hope ya let Harris know," he'd said, ignoring that Anna was standing right there. "He's already been through this once; he'll be glad to know this was a false alarm, too."

Despite the emotional slap in the face, Kathy responded in kind. "At least when Danny thought he'd knocked his girl up, he was plannin' on doin' the right thing by her and taking some damn responsibility."

The argument that had followed had been spectacular and she could still remember the vicious words Two-Bit had spat at her.

Kathy swiped at her eyes with the backs on her hands, silently telling herself that it was rain streaking down her face, not more tears over Two-Bit.

She had spent too much time wiping at her face because of him. Nights and nights had been spent thinking, worrying, remembering. None of it helped. The tears gave her a headache. The thinking, worrying, and remembering just made her heart hurt. She had tried to figure it all out - what everything meant - but it was hard to accept.

Technically, all evidence pointed toward her still loving Two-Bit. It pointed toward her wanting to be with him and wishing he had pleaded with her to stay. It didn't make any sense to her, considering the way she had been trying to get him out of her heart, but she had done the math. She had spent hours upon hours trying to work it all out, even going as far as to make lists, constantly finding herself with the same answer.

One side of the evidence pointed to her being a complete idiot. The other side pointed toward Two-Bit being the one who had grown up and moved on enough to let her go.

But Two-Bit growing up, Two-Bit maturing … it just didn't seem right. It didn't sound likely, but it was what it was. There was proof and facts to back it up.

She supposed it didn't change anything anyway. For one, Two-Bit didn't want her. He had made that perfectly clear when he hadn't even looked at her as she left his house. He was happy enough for her, but he didn't care enough to even turn and see her out.

And for two, she was leaving.

Rain began pelting down on her as she turned onto her street and she pushed her matted hair back, laughing quietly at herself.

Even if Two-Bit had asked her - _pleaded_ with her - to stay, what would she have said? Yes? Not likely … or maybe. She didn't know.

She stopped walking. She didn't know? That wasn't right.

She was meant to be leaving, doing something for herself for once. Not letting him drag her down, not letting him talk her into something, not letting him control her heart. She was meant to be leaving Tulsa and it was meant to be what she wanted.

But she wasn't sure it was.

"… _but it ain't like we're in love and ya leaving me and breakin' my heart or anything."_

Two-Bit's words rang in her mind. Her eyes closed and she bit her lip.

No, they weren't in love and she wasn't leaving him and breaking his heart. She was in love … and that was it. She wasn't leaving Two-Bit, because they weren't even together anymore. Her heart wasn't breaking because, if she were honest with herself, that had happened six months ago.

She wanted to leave. She wanted to leave because she needed to leave. She deserved to leave and have a fresh start and find somebody who could love her back.

She wanted to go and, even if Two-Bit had pleaded with her to stay … well, it wouldn't have mattered. She didn't want to leave Two-Bit, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered. Not anymore.

_You've got me caught in a place,  
><em>_Panic for a minute,  
><em>_Got my brain in a daze,  
><em>_I wish you weren't in it._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Beta'd by Sam. I'm pretty sure this is more wangsty than angsty, which I'm not too happy about. Feel free to call me out on that, haha.


	4. What I can Give to You

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Outsiders_ by S.E. Hinton, or "Forever For Her (Is Over For Me) by The White Stripes.

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER FOUR<br>****Saturday, August 19th**

_And if I knew what to do, then I'd do it,  
><em>_But the point that I have, I'll get to it,  
><em>_That forever for her is over for me._

10:15pm

Funny, it had been 10:15pm the last time Two-Bit glanced up at the clock. It wasn't right that time was moving so slowly, but it also wasn't surprising. Time had been an enemy to him the last two weeks and he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take. It wasn't like the very few other enemies he had; he couldn't fight it, he couldn't get his buddies to help jump it, he couldn't even avoid it. It was always there.

Unlike Kathy.

Scratching his head, he took a sip of his beer, grimacing at the lukewarm drink that had been sitting in his hands for who damn well knew how long? He surely didn't. He might have become some kind of expert at seeking out clocks, checking the time, and not missing a fucking minute, but it all seemed to blend together now.

Minutes turned into hours turned into days. Just yesterday he had woken up, wondering how the hell it had been eight weeks since Steve left; it both felt like longer and not that long. It felt like he had only been hanging out with his buddy the day before, having a few drinks at Buck's, talking about girls, bitching about girls … it all seemed like it had only just happened. Other times it felt like years ago. It felt like it had been months and months since he'd seen Steve, not days. It felt like Steve had been gone too damn long and, even though it was unfair to send him away in the first place, it was about damn time the government sent him back.

If not for Two-Bit's sake, then for Steve's, or Anna's … or Soda's, Darry's, Pony's. Who even cared? Just fucking send him home already.

Two-Bit took another drink, knowing what people would say about his problems with time. It was the same thing they said about his problem with everything else, too.

_Don't you think you should cut down on the beer_?_ Are you drunk_?_ Christ, how much have you had_?

That's what people would say if they knew. Well, maybe not people, but definitely Kathy.

He didn't need to cut down on the beer. Or the whiskey. Or the bourbon. Of course he wasn't drunk - he was sober as a judge on Christmas morning. And hell, he was pretty sure he was still on his first beer of the night.

Fucking Kathy.

Leaning back in his seat, he rested his feet on the chair next to him. He wondered if anyone _was_ fucking Kathy. He used to think it unlikely. Not that she wasn't fuckable - because she really was - but that she would go out and screw anyone other than him. He had really thought she loved him, had only wanted him, had only wanted to be with him.

He'd obviously been wrong about that.

Frowning, he pushed that thought out of his head, knowing it had done a damn good job of causing a lot of his problems in the first place.

Finishing off the beer, he placed in on the floor next to his chair and noticed the empty bottles sitting there. Huh. Maybe that hadn't been his first after all. It wouldn't be his last either, he decided, reaching for the box.

So he was a little drunk. Who the fuck cared? He was nineteen, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted - including drinking as much beer as he liked. And he would, too. Why? Because he could. Because nobody would stop him. Because there was no one to nag him about it.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he wondered if that was really as good a thing as he thought it was.

He stopped in his attempt to uncap the bottle. It had been a while since he'd gotten drunk for any reason other than having a bit of fun with some buddies; there was no need to start again now. Well, that wasn't entirely true, but it was sometimes true, and that stuck with him. The last thing his friends needed was him turning back into a drunk who couldn't say a nice word to save his life.

Back then he hadn't been able to say a nice word to save a lot of things. His car that'd had its window smashed in by a couple of River Kings, his friendship with Anna that had only recently gotten back on track, and, of course, his relationship with Kathy.

He sighed and pushed the bottle away. He wanted the drink, no surprise there, but he might have been better off without it. Scratch that - he _was_ better off without it.

He glanced at the clock again, surprised and glad to see more than ten minutes had ticked by. Made him wonder that perhaps thinking about things - Steve, Kathy, and all the other bullshit he was trying to forget about - wasn't such a bad thing after all. He'd been avoiding it for what felt like forever, but it sure made the time fly by.

And that was what he needed. He needed time to move faster because, really, waiting for everything he had to wait for was no fun at all. In fact, it was downright shitty. He hated it and if he had the power to travel through time, he would go forward - a month, a year - however long it would take for things to be right again.

He would go to whenever Steve could finally come home. To when he got his buddy back. To when he knew his buddy was safe and okay.

Rubbing his itchy eyes, he pushed that away. Anything could happen to Steve over there; it really was better not thinking about that.

He supposed he could go forward a month or two, go forward however long it would take for him to feel better about Kathy. For him to no longer be angry at her, to no longer hate her … to no longer love her.

Or, maybe he would go back in time. Back eighteen months and convince his past self to treat Kathy better. Back six months and convince his past self to not be a complete asshole to her when she needed him. Back to that very morning and try again and again and again to convince Kathy to stay.

He had never planned on going to see her. As far as he was concerned, when she turned up at his house two weeks ago to tell him she was leaving was going to be the last time he saw her. Only problem that had been torturing him about that encounter being their last, was that he had missed her. He had turned to say goodbye and she had been gone.

It had been killing him ever since.

There had been no way for him to leave it at that; he had to see her one last time and, once he realised that, he realised that he had to convince her not to go.

He made it with time to spare, only allowing himself a few seconds to remember being in the same bus depot eight weeks ago when Steve left, hoping like hell he would never have to go back. He refused to look at Anna as he walked toward them; he didn't need to be reminded of the way she had thrown herself in to Steve's arms - not then.

So he looked at Kathy imploringly, knowing he must look more pathetic than he ever had in his short nineteen years.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, standing from her seat.

Despite what he was doing, despite the look on her face, he tried to make light of it.

"Ain't no one but Anna and your brother here," he said, indicating Dave and Anna. "Thought ya deserved a bit of a better send off than that."

She sighed. "Two-Bit -"

"Don't go."

"What?"

"Don't - don't go," he said again, taking a step toward her. "Please."

She opened her mouth to say something, before promptly closing it. Her gaze moved from his to Anna's to her brothers, and he knew she was hoping someone could tell her what the hell he was doing, because she really didn't understand. Her eyes finally met his again, searching for the answers and words he was finally ready to give.

"Maybe you should piss off," Dave said, standing up.

Kathy waved him off and kept her eyes on Two-Bit. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't want you to leave."

"But … _why_? Why are you here? I told you weeks ago that I was going - why didn't you say anything then?"

"'Cause I'm an idiot."

"Two-Bit." She sighed his name and he stepped forward again.

"I know I don't deserve you," he said. "But I don't want you to go."

"Why not?"

"Why not what?"

"Why don't you want me to go?" she asked quietly, looking up at him.

"Because -"

He didn't know what to say. There were a million reasons running through his mind, but none of them seemed good enough. Was it enough that he didn't want her to go because he would miss the smell of strawberries? Was it enough that no matter how many jokes he told, none of them would be worth shit without her there to roll her eyes at him before breaking into a reluctant grin? Was it enough that the memory of her pale skin in the moonlight was what had kept him sane after Dally and Johnny died?

He didn't think it was.

It wasn't enough that it was the three freckles below her left ear that were his favourite part of her body - not her legs, breasts, or lips. It wasn't enough that his favourite memory of their time together was the rainy afternoon they had spent in his room, not fooling around, just hanging out. It wasn't enough that he had barely even looked at another girl in their six months apart.

None of it was enough, because it didn't compare to all the bad.

It especially didn't compare to what he had accused her of with Danny Harris.

"You can't even tell me why?" she asked, hurt evident in her voice.

He opened his mouth and closed it again. Even if he did come up with the perfect thing to say, it wouldn't even matter. He might say something to make up for all the shit he had pulled over the last two years, but it wouldn't be enough to keep her there. Nothing would be enough because she wanted to leave. She didn't want to stay. She didn't love him anymore.

He licked his lips, heart ready to burst out of his chest. "I don't want you to go because I love you."

Kathy looked like he had felt moments ago - at a complete loss for words. Her eyes lowered while her hands twisted nervously in front of her, and all Two-Bit could do was wait.

And it was the worst damn wait of his life. She was frowning at the floor, Dave was frowning at him, and Anna was frowning at Kathy. Finally - _finally_ - she looked at him, frown gone, eyes clear.

"You accused me of cheating on you," she said, voice low and calm.

Shame washed over him. "I know."

"You weren't around when -" she threw a glance at her brother "- when I really needed you."

He nodded, because it was true. "I know."

"You were really, _really_ horrible to me," she said, voice cracking.

There was nothing he could say to that. He couldn't disagree because it was true, and he couldn't agree because he hated himself for it.

"Why are you doing this? You've spent months and _months_ using me as nothing more than someone to screw, not even attempting to make up for what you did. Why are you doing this now?"

"Because I don't want you to leave. I don't wanna lose you, Kathy. I fucking love you."

"You've had so much time, Two-Bit - not just the last two weeks, but all those months - to say this, but you're only saying it now, now that I'm leaving." She shook her head. "What is it you really want from me?"

He stepped forward again, stopping right in front of her. "I want you, beautiful."

His voice was low, as he stared down at her. He slowly lifted his hand, tracing a finger over her cheek and letting his gaze rake over her face. He was willing her to stay - silently pleading with her - but he wasn't going to take the chance of not memorizing her face on the off chance she left.

"That's my bus," she whispered as a call crackled out over the speakers.

He ignored her, leaning down and pressing his lips softly against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, be he continued watching her, wanting it all etched into him. She was going to stay - she had to stay - but he wasn't a mind reader, and there was a slim chance he could be wrong.

"Please," he said softly. "Don't leave me."

She licked her lips, looking for all the world like it was the hardest decision of her life when it really shouldn't have been. She should have just agreed. She should have just thrown herself into him arms. She should have just wanted to stay.

Instead, she stepped back. And back again. Tearing herself away from him.

"You don't love me," she said, everything about her radiating with bitterness.

"I do. I love you." He had never said it often enough, but she had always known. _Surely_ she had always known. She had to have known.

She stepped away and picked up her bag. Turning her back to him she hugged her brother, promising to call home when she arrived in the city. Turning again, she hugged Anna, apologising for something Two-Bit couldn't hear because of the sudden buzzing in his ears.

She didn't look back at him as she turned and made her way to the double doors leading outside, but he wasn't ready to give up.

"Kathy."

She looked up at him and shook her head. "You don't love me. You think you love me, but you just don't like the idea of not having me around anymore. I've been at your beck and call for too long now, and the idea of it ending is what you don't like. I'm done. I'm going." She looked away. "You're too late, Two-Bit."

Then she had gone, just like she had said she was going to.

And now, hours later, it still hurt as much as it had then. Hell, it hurt more than it had then and he hated it. He hated her.

Fuck, but he loved her so much.

Anna had been pretty good to him, considering she had recently been through the same thing.

"Did you really think she'd stay?" she asked him, standing next to him, and watching Kathy's bus turn the corner and leave their sight.

He shrugged, not quite trusting his voice. He wasn't about to cry - he refused to let that happen - but he wasn't sure anything would come out if he opened his mouth.

"I did," she continued.

Her words seemed to clear his throat and he looked at her. "You did?"

"I really did."

"Why?"

"'Cause we had a fight a few weeks ago and …" She shrugged. "I dunno, I thought she realised how I felt. I thought she realised how much it hurt to have the person you love leave you. No matter how much they've hurt you in the past."

He remembered watching her and Steve slow dance in his near empty living room the night before Steve left. It had just been the two of them, as if no one else in the house mattered or even existed. Anna had to know that when Steve came back, he would be coming back to her. It didn't matter what had or hadn't happened between the two of them this last year; they loved each other and there would be no keeping them apart once he got back.

Kathy on the other hand … well, if he hadn't known before he sure knew now. She didn't love him. If she ever came back, it wouldn't be to him.

Of course, that was when he had realised that if Kathy _didn't_ come back, it would probably be by choice, not because she had been killed in a war. Instead, he told Anna the one thing that was different and wouldn't cause her to burst into tears.

"Steve didn't have a choice about leavin', kid. You know he would've stayed if he could've."

She nodded. "Yeah."

"And he'll be back."

She gave him a grin and he looked at her properly, only then noticing how pale she looked.

"Of course he will," she said.

He had given her a ride home after that and they hadn't said much else. It didn't matter, though; he was hardly up for conversation.

Reaching across the table, he grabbed at the bottle of beer, uncapped it, and downed what he could without choking. Things weren't meant to go this way. If things were right in the world, Steve would be sitting there with him, slowly drinking along just to make him feel better. Or, if things were really fucking perfect, he wouldn't even be drinking because Kathy would still be there, and Steve would be off somewhere with his girl.

If he had his way, he'd be in his bedroom, in his bed, inside his girl. He'd be touching her, tasting her, kissing her. He missed kissing her so much.

Swirling the dregs of the beer, he looked at it long and hard before tipping the bottle back and claiming it. He didn't even think about whether or not to have the next drink as he reached for the box, pulling a bottle out and opening it.

He looked at the clock again as he took another long drink. It was late - much later than what he had thought - and he realised that thinking about things, thinking about all the bullshit, really did make time go faster. Or maybe it was the beer. He didn't care either way; he was just glad that time was moving again.

Because, the quicker time moved on, the sooner Steve would be home, and the quicker time moved on, the sooner he'd get over the achy feeling in his chest and stop hurting over Kathy.

_Forever, a word that we could say together,  
><em>_It could change if you want for the better,  
><em>_Just tug on my shirt and lay down next to me._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **The end! Beta'd by Sam. Thanks to those who have read this. I know it's short and not so sweet, but my main goal in writing this was to show what happened to Two-Bit and Kathy after Sway. Hope you all enjoyed it ... despite the lack of closure ;)


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